The Pirate 'n th' Princess
by Nina Windia
Summary: Elsa is a cross-dressing lesbian pirate captain. Nuff said. (Rated for strong language and wanton women. Eventual elsanna.)


**The Pirate 'n th' Princess **

**Part one: Yo-ho-ho, let it go!  
**

**by **_Nina Windia_

Even below decks, the pirates could still hear Elsa cursing and blinding.

"Cap'n's mad again," said Kristoff the deckhand, throwing his aces onto the worm-bitten table.

"Cap'n's always mad lately," replied one-eyed Joe, throwing out a flush row of kings. Kristoff groaned and took a swig of dark, strong rum, reaching down to the ruffle Sven's matted fur. The dog, always friendly, licked his face in response.

Another stream of swearing erupted upstairs. The pirates caught one part- "-WHAR'S TH' FUCKING RUM GONE!?-"

Kristoff, one-eyed Joe and Peg-leg Peeta exchanged glances.

"Holy mother of barnacles," said Kristoff, before, seizing the rum, they dived, legs scrambling, Peeta's peg leg flying, in a free-for-all under the table.

* * *

In her doublet and breeches, coat flapping angrily around her, Elsa slammed open the door to the bunkroom. Striding down past the hammocks she yelled, "Ye cowards! I be knowin' ye're in here. Ye've got five seconds to hand over th' rum before I burn th' ship down!"

With a shh—ing of metal, she drew her pistol. "One-" she called, shooting a hole clean through the first hammock. "Two-" another hammock, another hole. "Three-" Snatching up a scrap of paper, Elsa lit it on the lantern hanging from the wooden beam. "Four-" She slung her booted foot up onto the table, where her men had left their playing cards. "Five-"

On five, the men came scrabbling out from under the table like bugs out of the woodwork. Kristoff stopped dead when Elsa fired a shot inches from his head.

"Fuckin' Kristoff, shudda known it'd be ye, ye rum-pilfering jelly boned thumb suckin' crud bucket!"

Kristoff winced at the power of her insult. "Forgive me Cap'n, I just wanted to whet me whistle."

"And from me own personal store, aye?" said Elsa.

"It... it was one-eyed Joe's idea, Cap'n..." Kristoff said, weakly.

Elsa whirled on Joe, who sat, looking terrified. "What do you have to say fer yerself, Joe, aye?"

"We really are sorry Cap'n... 'tis just that we've all be so long without a drink. If we could just stop at th' nearest port 'n do a spot 'o pilferin', like we used to Cap'n..."

Peeta and Kristoff joined their voices to his. "Cap'n, we haven't taken port fer a month! Supplies are dwindlin' 'n our throats are dry!"

"Port of Arendelle is just around the bay! Cap'n, if we could just do a bit of ransackin..."

Elsa responded, once more, with a fire of her pistol. "We ain't dockin' in Arendelle! I told ye once n' I won't be tellin' ye again."

Kristoff attempted a more supplicating tone. "Cap'n, we all know ye been depressed, but..."

"Damn ta hell I be depressed. I be so keal hauled bin be thinkin' 'bout buyin' unfashionable boots," Elsa raved, spitting into the spit pot.

All three deckhands made noises of disagreement about how their captain could never purchase shoes anyone could consider unfashionable.

"Ah to hell with the lot of ye. Flattery gunna get ye no whar."

"Cap'n, if I may, I reckon all ye need be a couple 'o jolly plunders. Maybe some ransackin' 'n a few murders. It'll whip ye right back into shape," suggested peg leg Peeta.

Both Kristoff and Joe recalled loudly the good old times; the famous escapades, the bountiful treasures, the fine women they'd woo'd since Elsa became their captain five years ago, introducing "himself" as Elzar, king of thieves and plunderer of the fanny.

"Them were fine times lads," Elsa, reluctantly, agreed. "But I be keal hauled 'o murder. I be sick 'o ransackin'. I be even tired 'o plunderin' wenches treasure chests."

All three men looked shocked. Elsa sighed and leapt down from the table, slumping down on the bench, head in her hands. Very quickly, the deckhands joined her, pouring her a tankard of rum and saying reassuring things.

She'd become a pirate to escape her previous life. It was many years ago now, and when she thought back on it it felt like looking underwater at the distant fishies. Far away, irrelevant. The girl who wore tight stifling corsets that robbed her of her breath and obeyed her father and practice crochet felt, now, like an entirely different person. It wasn't always easy being Captain Elzar, especially hiding the secret of her femininity from her crew, involving a great deal of concealin', not feelin'. Thankfully, however, her crew made it a practice to be drunk for twenty three hours of the day, and thus still had no idea.

It'd once been fun, but now, Elsa felt like there was something missing from her life, though she couldn't fathom what it was. All she knew now was that murder was dull, treasure hunting was duller and she'd just rather drink another keg of rum, anyway.

"Cap'n... if I may suggest..." began Kristoff.

Elsa slammed her tankand down on the table. "Another," she demanded. Peg leg Peeta quickly refilled her.

Gingerly, Kristoff continued. He pulled a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket. "Maybe Cap'n, you just need a different bit of excitement. Peeta and I rowed out to Oaken's floatin' tavern yesterday to, uh, refuel. 'n they told us some interestin' soundin' news..."

"Spit it out," said Elsa.

"Apparently, next week in Arendelle, they're goin' to open th' castle gates," said Kristoff.

Slowly, Elsa raised her head. "Open th' gates? Why, Arendelle, that dried up barnacle-covered virgin hasn't open her legs in more than twenty years. Why would they be doin' that?"

"It be the Princess Anna's eighteenth birthday," said Kristoff. He pressed out the crumpled piece of paper. It was a formal invite to Anna's birthday, addressed to the Duke of Weaselton.

Elsa snatched the invite from Kristoff's hands and stared at it it with great intent.

"You stole this?" she asked, glancing up at him.

Kristoff looked offended. "Not just the invite. We got his money too," he said.

"And his clothes," peg leg Peeta said with a yellow grin.

Elsa nodded her approval. "Nice one boys."

"So ye spy wit' ye eye what I be sayin' cap'n," said Kristoff, leaning forward on the table. "Just think 'o all th' loot we could grab if we could get into th' castle. We'd live like kings!"

Elsa, however, was staring so hard at the invite she might burn a hole in it. Finally, she smacked it down on the table. "We're goin' to break into th' castle. But we're not goin' to pillage th' loot. We're goin' to get somethin' much more valuable."

With the wide smile of daring that'd struck fear into many a man's heart, she drew the knife from her belt and tossed the invite up. The knife flew through the air, and pinned the paper to the wall of the ship. The point stuck into a name written on the paper.

None of Elsa's crew, however, could actually read, so it was a wasted effort. But for the landlubber readers out there who've had a spot more education than these scurvvy dogs, here's what it said:

**HER HIGHNESS THE PRINCESS ANNA-**

_to be continued. _


End file.
